


Fear

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Series: patchwork quilt [10]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Court, Court Case, Do not read if that kind of stuff freaks you out, Gen, Gun Violence, Guns, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, I know nothing about how courts work sorry, M/M, Multi, Other, Police Brutality, Police Violence, READING PATCHWORK QUILT IS NOT NECCESSARY TO UNDERSTAND THIS, Someone gets shot and almost dies okay, Violence, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: UNIDENTIFIED YOUNG DILINQUENT SHOT BY POLICE OFFICER IN CENTRAL PARK.Frowning, Alexander opened his phone and hit the notification. Once the screen loaded, he choked, his blood running cold.The news article had a fuzzy picture of Georges, Frances and Theo in various poses of shock and anger around the fallen body of his son.×*×OR, George Eacker and Philip Hamilton meet in Central Park. Before he can even count to ten, Philip is on the ground.





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. I'm so sorry. My finger slipped.
> 
> In all seriousness though, this is a very serious topic, and I've done a lot of research on it. Ill talk more about it in the end notes, but as a disclaimer, I AM white. I do not personally know what it is like to be racially profiled. As far as skin color goes, I am pretty privileged. (That doesnt mean I am privileged in other ways but I digress).
> 
> Point is, I could have this completely wrong and misinterpret everything about this, so if I have, please tell me! (In a polite way, I am trying my best.)
> 
> Also, if you havent read any patchwork quilt, that's totally fine. All that you really need to know is that Philip was adopted by Alex and john, who already had frances as their kid. Georges is Lafayette's son, lafayette is married to Hercules, and Cato, Hercules' best friend, is like an Uncle to Georges. Theo is Aaron's daughter. Thomas Jefferson is dating James Madison, and has full custody of his three kids and three youngest siblings (but his younger sister is living with him, even though she's 20).
> 
> This is a few years in the future of patchwork quilt, btw, for those of you who do follow it.

Alex heard his phone ping from his desk and sighed, cracking his neck. It was probably a news report notification; he liked to stay updated on the goings on of the world.

He picked it up and glanced at it, wanting to know if it was urgent or interesting enough to read that moment. 

UNIDENTIFIED YOUNG DILINQUENT SHOT BY POLICE OFFICER IN CENTRAL PARK.

Frowning, he opened his phone and hit the notification. Once the screen loaded, he choked, his blood running cold.

The news article had a fuzzy picture of Georges, Frances and Theo in various poses of shock and anger around the fallen body of his son.

×*×

John would like to say he keeps a relatively calm façade in times of panic and trouble. But, when he saw his son’s bleeding form being rolled into the hospital he worked in, unmoving and pale on the gurney, John couldn’t breathe. 

“Laurens, get moving!” One of the doctors hissed, hitting his arm. “What are you doing?”

“That’s my son,” he choked out. “That’s my Philip.”

The doctor’s eyes widened, and she looked at Philip. “Shit. I’ll take him in then, okay?”

John rushed forward, nodding. “Give me vitals and get him into surgery room B,” he heard the other doctor order. He took his son’s hand as he helped rush the gurney through the hall. “Stay with me, Philip, stay alive,” he murmured, squeezing his hand. 

Philip’s eyelids fluttered and he looked up at John through a haze of pain. “Dad?” He rasped, the breath rattling in his chest. “Dad, it hurts, it hurts so much, Dad, please, help me…”

“Shh, Philip, it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be fine,” John whispered, his throat tight and eyes stinging. They approached the swinging doors, and John knew he couldn’t go further. He quickly kissed his son’s hand. “You’ll be okay, Philip.”

“I need anesthesia! We need to put him under and work fast, people!” The doctor made eye contact with him and he stopped, watching the hospital workers take his son away. The doors closed and he fell to his knees with a sob. 

“Please be okay, Pip.”

×*×

One moment, Georges was getting sprayed with water. The next, there was a loud bang. Then, Philip was on the ground with blood covering his lower ribs, and Frances was screaming.

There was a police officer in front of them, gun raised and eyes hard, and he was moving his aim to Georges.

He put his finger on the trigger—

And then the officer was tackled to the ground, another gunshot sounding.

Theo, brave, angry Theo, kicked the gun away from the officer, trembling. “You shot him!” She screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “And you were going to shoot Georges too!”

She covered her mouth and stumbled backwards. “You shot him,” she said weakly. “You shot Philip.”

Two women rushed forward, one to Philip and one to Theo. A man stepped forward when the police officer started saying something, reaching for his gun, and said something to him, shaking his head. Another man was on the side of the grass, on the phone frantically. 

After that, it was all a blur to Georges. He was vaguely aware of someone wrapping him with a blanket and gently moving him along, and he saw flashing lights, and heard sirens, and it was all too much. He felt numb, and then he felt nauseas, and then numb again. He may have puked, but he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually, he found himself in the arms of his Papa, with Frances leaning against his legs and staring blankly at a wall. He slowly looked to the side, where he saw Theo and her father, sitting across from each other, clutching amulets and praying quietly. He saw his father pacing on the other side of the room, and Cato next to him, his face pinched in worry. 

“Papa,” he choked out hoarsely, and he couldn’t help but sob. “Papa, where’s Philip?” 

Georges twisted around to look at his Papa in the face. Their hair was limp, and their eyes were red and puffy. They looked like a mess as they gently pulled Georges closer. “In the hospital, mon petit prince, he… He’s still in surgery. John and Alex are in the waiting room.” Their voice was rough and quiet.

Georges felt tears stream down his cheeks. “Wh-where are we?”

“The police station,” another voice said. Frances. She didn’t look away from the wall, and her voice was a quiet monotone. “We’re witnesses.”

His stomach lurched, and he covered his mouth, trembling.

They had been playing with water guns. They were all colored. The cop was white. That officer was going to get benefit of the doubt, and they wouldn’t. They would be framed as criminals, and the officer was going to be painted a hero unless they did something about it.

His Papa seemed to sense where his mind was going. “Grandpa is already on the case,” they murmured. “He found a witness who had been filming her daughter, and you four happened to be in the background when it happened, and she got video of it. We also have at least five other witnesses and you three. It’ll be fine.”

“They’re gonna bring up his fighting record, Papa, and that Theo tackled the police officer.” Georges whispered. “They’re not gonna fight fair.”

“I know, baby, I know. But it’ll be okay. We’ll get through this, everything will be fine.” 

Georges wasn’t sure who Papa was trying to convince.

×*×

Philip woke up to bright lights and quiet murmurs. Both of his hands were being held, and he felt like shit. His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open anyways, blinking blearily. 

From his left, he could hear a familiar voice hiss, “He’s awake!”

He looked at the person who spoke first, who made all of the voices stop. He blinked slowly, and a tan man with long brown hair, and soft brown eyes looked back at him, biting his lip anxiously. Alex. His foster father. The one holding his hand. 

“Pa,” he mumbled, his throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls.

Alex’s face broke into a grin, and he leaned forward, kissing his forehead. “Hey, hijo,” he murmured, voice heavy with relief. “Gave us quite the scare, didn’t you?”

Philip smiled faintly, not having the energy to give a full reply. Next to Alex was Lafayette, who gave him a smile. 

“Hey, mon petit poète,” Lafayette said softly, smiling at him sadly. “How you feeling?”

“Like I should be on drugs,” Philip mumbled, breathing shallowly. There was so much pain in his ribs, and his mind was fuzzy. He knew he was in the hospital, and there was a part of him that was itching to get out, but it was muffled. Besides, Alex was here. If Alex could do it, so could he.

Dimly, he was aware that they were chuckling at what he said, but he could hear the strain, and feel the tension. He turned his head to see who was holding his other hand. John smiled tiredly at him. “Hey kiddo,” he murmured, gently brushing a few curls out of Philip’s face. “You just gotta rest, okay? Don’t worry about anything else. We’re taking care of everything, you just focus on getting better.”

Philip shifted, grimacing at the fresh wave of pain. John shushed him gently, showing a little button on the IV in Philip’s wrist. “See this? If you hit this button, it’ll give you more morphine. Do you want me to push it?”

“Will it make me fall asleep again?” He murmured. “I… I can’t remember what happened, is everyone else okay?”

Cato and Hercules slipped in the door, holding take out bags. The scent of food made his stomach turn, but the relieved looks on their faces made it bearable. They set the food on a table quietly as John took in a deep breath.

His foster father squeezed his hand. “I’ll answer quickly so you can sleep, okay? It’s normal to not be able to remember this kind of stuff right away. Everybody else is okay though. You, on the other hand, were shot in the ribs by Officer George Eacker,” John spat the man’s name like a curse, and Philip suddenly understood the tension he felt. “He shot you because you had a water gun, and apparently, he thought you were going to shoot Franny, because obviously, a water gun and a handgun look exactly the same.” Cato put a hand on John’s shoulder as he started getting worked up, and John looked up at Cato and then back to Philip, letting the anger go. “Anyways. Eacker turned the gun on Georges, and Theo tackled him before he pulled the trigger. Bystanders called the ambulance, and made sure Eacker didn’t get up.”

Philip looked at the wall, throat dry. Eacker had tried to shoot Georges? He felt sick and angry and John must’ve seen the look on his face because he squeezed Philip’s hand. “Hey. Georges is okay, he didn’t get shot, I promise. Now, will you let me hit the button now?”

Philip glanced at everyone once more before nodding, relaxing against the mattress. 

“Sleep well,” he heard Alex say before the morphine dragged him under into a deep sleep.

×*×

Thomas Jefferson did not think he would ever willingly help Alexander Hamilton on anything. In fact, Thomas doubted he would even give Alexander a few dollars to ride the subway if he needed it.

However, this? This was not acceptable, and Thomas would not stand for it. A police officer had nearly killed a young man because said young man had been playing with water guns in the park and he happened to be Latino. Thomas didn’t care if it was Hamilton’s kid; police brutality was never okay.

But George Eacker was asking him to be his lawyer, and he was offering a lot of money, money that Thomas’ family so desperately needed. A family of nine, three being Thomas’ kids, four being his siblings, and then there was James and him. They all needed food, clothes, transportation, tuition money for all seven of the kids, and then there were the bills, and everything else.

But he didn’t want to win this case. He wanted this man to burn in Hell. And if he didn’t win this case, he wouldn’t get the money.

Unless… Unless he demanded half the payment beforehand and purposely did terribly on the case. Made sure the Hamiltons won, and Eacker was sent to jail.  
But, he couldn’t do that. It was wrongful and unfair, and Eacker could sue him for it.

Thomas paced anxiously in his office at the law firm, gnawing his lip. He didn’t know what to do and he felt sick at either choice. Either his family suffers, or he defends a racist police officer who tried to kill someone.  
He can’t make this decision. 

Thomas picked up his phone and called James, sitting in his seat heavily. 

“Thomas, you’re lucky you called during my lunch, you know I can’t answer my phone in class.” James’ voice filled his ears, and Thomas felt his shoulders slump in relief.

“Darlin’…” He mumbled, his Southern drawl strong and voice thick.

There was a pause before a rustle and James’ voice, laced with worry, came back. “Thomas, what’s wrong?” He asked, voice soft.

“I… Jemmy, you know the guy who shot Hamilton’s kid? He… He’s trying to get me as his lawyer-”

“No. Thomas, don’t take that case, that man deserves to go to jail.” James’ voice is firm but still gentle and Thomas just wants to be next to him, to hold him close and never let go.

“But… James, he’s offering a lot of money. Money we can use for the kids-” Thomas protested weakly.

James cut him off again. “Thomas, love, you’d never forgive yourself if you took this case and Eacker got off. Don’t do it.”

Relief bubbled in his chest and he felt the pressure lift off of him. He wanted to cry, there were too many emotions battling inside of him. “Thank you, baby, thank you so much,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I know, you’re stressed and anxious, but don’t take this case.” James was gentle and loving, and Thomas didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as him.

“I love you, Jemmy.” He whispered into the phone, rubbing his eyes. He could practically hear James’ flustered smile.

“I love you too. Now, get to work, asshole, I want to eat my damn salad. I’ll see you at home.”

Thomas laughed, sniffing a little. “Bye, darlin’. See you then.” He hung up and smiled dopily at his desk for a moment, letting himself recover his professional face. He picked up the desk phone and hit the redial button.

“Yes, Mr. Eacker? This Is Thomas Jefferson from Washington Law. Unfortunately, I am unable to take your case…”

×*×

Philip woke up to his boyfriend’s head on his thigh, the room filled with the soft, steady sound of his voice.

“-telling you, Fran, Next to Normal is great, but not as great as Heathers, okay?” Georges’ face was turned away from Philip, but he could imagine how he was scrunching his nose, lips pressed into a pout. 

Frances looked exasperated from where she sat on a chair at the foot of the bed, Theo reading in her lap. On a rolling table between them, there were various food items from McDonalds. 

“Look, Next to Normal has such a beautiful story though. It’s about love and loss and healthy coping mechanisms. Heathers is literally just about some kid who’s being a pissbaby and decided murder was the answer and emotionally manipulated a girl into following him down the rabbit hole.” Frances protested. “That being said, I fucking love the Heathers. Veronica is my spirit animal.”

“Babe, you only like Next to Normal to try to impress me.” Theo hummed, not looking up from her book. She turned the page, ignoring Frances’ whine. “Don’t deny it, you memorized My Psychopharmacologist and I just because then you could sing it to me and think you’re clever.”

Georges cackled, and Philip cracked a smile, watching his sister sputter and blush. 

“Personally, I like In the Heights the best,” he said, voice quiet and raspy. Georges jolted and looked up at Philip, eyes wide. 

“Pip, mon chou,” he whispered before quickly standing and fussing over him, cupping his cheeks and stroking his hair. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? How much do you remember?”

Philip smiled softly, raising his hand to gently push at Georges’ stomach. “I’m okay, mi vida, promise. Just sleepy and achy, but I mean. I got shot, so I’m pretty sure that’s to be expected.”

Georges winced at the mention, and Philip could feel his fingers trembling.

“Too soon?” Philip murmured, slowly reaching up to hold the back of Georges’ neck, gently pulling him down until their foreheads were touching. “Sorry, Georges. Come lay next to me.”

He hesitated, looking at Philip hesitantly. His baby calf eyes were full of concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Si, he’s sure, you oaf, he ain’t gonna break,” Frances said, but her voice held no malice. Georges smiled sheepishly and oh-so carefully inched Philip over until he could slip in next to him. He slowly pulled Philip close until the latter could rest his head on Georges’ shoulder.

“Where’s Papi and Dad?” Philip asked softly, relaxing against Georges. His boyfriend idly rubbed his arm while his sister replied.

“Laf convinced them to go home and rest, take some showers. They haven’t left the hospital since you got out of surgery yesterday. They wouldn’t’ve left if we hadn’t been here to watch over you, but we convinced them it would be okay. Knowing Papa, though, he’s probably talking to Grandpa to try to help with the case because he’s fucking extra.” Frances filled him in, making Philip crack a smile and even laugh a little.

“Alright. Thanks, Franny.” Philip murmured, burying his nose in Georges’ neck. He could feel Georges smiling against his hair, and he felt heavy and sleepy. “Hit the button, please, mi amor.”

“Of course, mon ange,” Philip heard him whisper before a lovely cloud of pain drugs swept him back into sleep.

Before he was asleep, he heard Frances snicker and say, “Blackout! Blackout!” He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

×*×

Two months later, and Philip had to face Eacker in court. 

“Hijo, you don’t need to do this.” Alex murmured, cupping Philip’s face in his hands. “We have enough of a case that you don’t have to testify, it’s technically John suing Eacker. Everyone will understand if you back out now, really.”

Philip looked his father in the eyes and smiled weakly. “Papi, I’m more worried about Franny, Gee and Theo than I am myself. I didn’t even see the bastard before he shot me, I probably wouldn’t’ve even been able to count to ten before I was down.”

Alex sighed and nodded, gently kissing his forehead and holding him close. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry, I’m just really worried. If you need a break, tell me immediately, okay? In fact, let’s make a sign. If you need a break, tap on the table, three quick taps, three long taps, and three quick ones, okay?”

Philip smiled, amused by his fussing. “Si, Papi, I got it.”

Alex gave him a sheepish grin. “I know, I know, I just. Goddamn, I wanna rip that guy’s head off.” He let out a shaky breath and stepped back, smoothing the shoulders of Philip’s suit. He gently fixed Philip’s crooked tie. “I love you, kiddo. You’re gonna do fine, everything will be okay, I promise.”

“I know. I love you too.” Philip murmured, squeezing his father’s hand.

Alex took a deep breath just as his own father came in, face stony and professional. “Come on now. Aaron and Thomas just finished up the paperwork and everything. The entire Jefferson family is here, I’m not sure why, but apparently you know Mary and James, and they wanted to be here for you?” He looked at Philip questionably.

Philip brightened a little. “Yes, I know Mr. Madison, he’s my government teacher. And Mary, she sometimes hangs out, she’s deaf and I know ASL, so she likes talking to me.”

George nodded, looking impressed. “Well, they’re here, and we have to go.”

Alex and Philip were gently ushered out into the main courtroom where Philip was tackled by a small, frail girl with puffy black hair making a halo around her head. She hugged him tightly, and started crying into his chest. He held her gently, humming quietly so she could feel the vibrations. She calmed down after a moment, and stepped back before swatting his arm and started signing angrily in ASL. Philip smiled and answered her easily, glancing at her twin brother behind her.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly, and Philip flushed, turning towards him. “Sorry, Papi. This is Mary, and that’s Peter,” He introduced, signing along. “Mary, Peter, this is my dad, Alexander Laurens-Hamilton.” He said it proudly, and Mary grinned, waving at Alex. Peter stayed silent, watching them interact impassively. Unlike most of the Jeffersons, his hair was cut close to his head, only leaving an inch or so of hair. As Alex watched, James Madison came up behind Peter and gently tapped Peter’s elbow, making him flinch. James’ face was empathetic, and Peter relaxed.

Alex’s eyes narrowed slightly, confused at the interaction. He didn’t know why Thomas had so many kids. In fact, he was fairly certain that Thomas only had four kids. So, why were there two of them were with Philip and James, and there were four kids and a young woman with Thomas, talking to Aaron off to the side?

He bit his lip but shook his head. It wasn’t any of his business. 

Frances, Theo and Georges soon joined them, talking and chatting. John came up next to Alex and wrapped an arm around him, kissing his cheek. “It’ll be okay, baby, don’t worry about a thing.” 

Alex twisted so he could look at John, lips pressed together. “They’re gonna bring up so much shit, John. They’re gonna bring up his immigration status, his fighting, us, his grades… Anything they can get.”

“I know,” John hummed. “I know, Alex. But it’ll all be okay.”

Burr came up behind them and touched John’s elbow. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

John nodded, and stepped to the side and Alex found James Madison in front of him, quietly inspecting him.

Alex blinked and James gave a wry smile. “I never thought you would be a good father. I see now I was wrong. I never thought Thomas would be good father either, in high school, but now I understand it was just his own father that he was reflecting back then. I was his best friend, and I never even knew who I was talking to wasn’t Thomas at all. He was just an echo.”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you telling me this?”

James sighed, eyes skimming the crowd. “I don’t know. Something to distract you, I suppose, maybe to get you to understand him a little more. He doesn’t have many people he can have a civil conversation with, and I was just… I don’t know. He and his siblings have been through a lot.”

“Siblings?” Alex echoed. “Jefferson has siblings?”

James looked startled at that, eyes going straight back to Alex. “Yes, siblings. He only has three kids, who did you think the other four were?”

“He has four kids,” Alex said slowly, tilting his head. “Or at least I thought he did. Martha, named after his ex-wife, Madison, named after you, East or Edgar or whatever, some weird Southern name that sounds like it came out of the 1700s, and his little girl, Lavender or Lily or something. She was born, what, six, seven years ago?”

He smiled uncertainly, looking confused. “Thomas only has three kids, Alexander. None of them have any names like Lily or Lavender.”

Alex chuckled nervously. “No, I remember that kid distinctively. She had the brightest red-brown hair of them all, and the biggest eyes. Jefferson paraded her around like she was the lost city of Atlantis for months after she was born. Then something happened and him and his wife divorced, and, well, here we are. Edward is the one I wasn’t sure about, I thought he was a joke, or like a pet or something.”

James shook his head slowly. “Eston Jefferson. He’s the youngest of the three. There is no fourth child. You might be thinking of Mads, they have the most red hair of them all, and-”

Alex shook his head, jaw tight. “No. There was four of them, I… There was a picture, all six of them at the beach. Martha, the mom, she was sleeping while the two boys drew on her stomach, Thomas was taking the picture, and Martha, the daughter, was holding the baby. He… it used to be on his desk, at work, I haven’t seen it in years, since the divorce, but I remembered it ‘cause I thought it was cute. They all looked so happy.”

James looked unnerved. “I don’t know.” He looked over to Thomas, where he was gesticulating wildly. James' face pinched as he watched his boyfriend, seeming to be mulling things over. He paled a little as he seemed to come to a conclusion, but Alex knew this had nothing to do with him. 

Alex took a step back. “This isn’t any of my business, James, I… You should talk to him though. If… if something happened, chances are, he’s not dealing with it well.”

James nodded, still pale. “Yes, I… I’ll see you around, Hamilton.”

Alex nodded. “See you,” he echoed.

×*×

For Philip, the entire trial passed in a blur. It was fast, and dizzying, and he remembered Georges, and Theo, and Frances, testifying against Eacker, telling what happened, and he remembered watching numbly as a video of him being shot was played on a screen. 

It had started off with a video of a little girl wobbling down a park trail on her bike, a man walking beside her to catch her if she fell. In the background, you could see the four of them laughing and running around, tag teaming and spraying each other harmlessly with the spray gun. Then, and man in a police uniform showed up near the edge of the frame, and pulled out his gun. There was a muffled, “Hands up!” and the person holding the camera adjusted, filming the whole thing as Officer Eacker aimed his gun and shot Philip, without waiting for a response. 

Then, there was shaky picture of the ground as the woman screamed and dropped her phone. In the recording, you could hear the little girl asking, “Mommy, what’s going on? What’s wrong mommy? Why did that police man shoot him? Mommy, he’s not moving, mommy, mommy,” and footsteps and shouts. 

There was Frances screaming, and Theo yelling, “You shot him! And you were going to shoot Georges too!” 

Then, there were sobs and a man, probably Eacker, yelling, “Get off of me, give me my gun, she attacked me, she fucking attacked me, you can’t attack a police officer young lady! She’s dangerous!”

That was the point where Philip realized just how terrified Frances, Theo and Georges must’ve been.

He was silent as the trial went on. His Papa was right; they dragged up every piece of his background and used it against him.

George shut it down as soon as it came up.  
“I don’t see why the fact that Philip has had trouble adjusting to a new life has anything to do with the fact that he was wrongfully shot by a police officer while playing in the park. Someone who is supposed to protect citizens against damage of their person and their property shot a young man with no other reason than the color of his skin. I’d like to point out that Mr. Eacker here doesn’t have a clean slate either, but nobody has been dragging that up. Several misdemeanors over the past five years, including sexual harassment, and, oh, look at this, racial profiling.” He looked up sharply, and Eacker’s lawyer had shifted nervously.

“Well, you see, Philip is dangerous, he’s gotten in several fights during his high school career-” The lawyer tried to say, but George cut him off angrily.

“Your honor, Philip is a young man who has recently been accepted into Columbia. If you actually look at his records, yes, he got into fights, but all of those fights were defending other students who were being bullied. In fact, most of those fights were against a Miss Martha Jefferson, and her younger brother Eston Jefferson. They are here right now, actually, and have something to say.” George rumbled, eyes angry but demeanor calm.  
Martha and Eston stepped up as the judge gestured them forward. Philip didn’t remember much of it except for their guilty faces, apologizing for causing him so much pain and grief during his teenage years.

Soon after, the judge and the jury had made up their mind after deliberating. 

“We have deliberated and decided that Officer George Eacker is guilty of attempted manslaughter…” The rest of the judge's words were drowned out as his dads both surrounded him with their arms and he started crying and shaking in relief. 

Later, Frances would recount the pure look of shock and horror that came over Eacker's face, the man clearly expecting to get off Scott free. Glee covered his sister’s face as she gripped his hand tightly, seemingly subconsciously. Georges’ arms tightened around his waist, and he felt his boyfriend gently kiss his neck. Theo had Philip's legs in her lap, gently rubbing his knee. It felt good to be surrounded so safely by his best friends, the anxiety of the last few months slowly dripping away.

There was no reason to be afraid anymore, everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. What a rollercoaster, am I right?
> 
> Anyways, George Eacker getting charged for this is actually very unrealistic, BUT since Gwash is supposedly a super good lawyer in this verse, Eacker got charged. Statistically, however, around 98% of officers involved in police brutality cases do not recieve any punishment. That is not okay. So yeah, I wrote a fanfic about it because people need to see, to understand that this is a thing. I originally planned to have Philip die and for eacker to get off Scott free, but I couldn't do it, I love Philip too much. But that would be just as likely, if not more likely than what actually happened in this fic. 
> 
> When you hear about shit like this, don't just let it happen. Don't let their names be forgotten. Don't let any of them be forgotten. Black Lives Matter. Latino Lives Matter. Hispanic Lives Matter. 
> 
> That being said, I wont be posting much, if at all this summer. I dont have a laptop to write on (ive been using my school computer) and I hate writing on my phone, but we'll see. 
> 
> Kudos encourage, comments make me smile for the rest of the day. Tell me what you think. Also, do yall think this should be part of the main patchwork quilt story, or just an au of an au?


End file.
